


One Hundred Lifetimes

by Norse_God_Loki



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banishment, Fluff, Happy Ending, Loki is a witch, Loki is an ancient, Lost Love, Lost in the Woods, M/M, Major character death but he always comes back so not really dead, Mention of suicide attempts, Mind Control, Sibling Incest, Thor is a huntsman, Witchcraft, implied underage sexual contact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-24 12:15:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norse_God_Loki/pseuds/Norse_God_Loki
Summary: Thor and Loki were once Gods, but that was a thousand years ago. Both cast out for their sins of the flesh with their brother, sent to opposite ends of the  Earth until they could prove their worthiness and return to the heavens and reign Gods again, or until they're able to find one another again.Thor lives and dies over a hundred lifetimes on Earth. Loki has had but one. An everlasting life of a thousand years condemned to seek out his brother. He had lost his powers but gained those of the Earth, of nature and through his natural affinity to magic, became one of the most powerful witches on the blue planet, using his powers to live several lifetimes, gaining knowledge and more power over the years.This fic was inspired by a meditation I did while listening to this music. Om mantra with drums.https://youtu.be/-nrIM6LfAGs





	1. Chapter 1

 

Thor's first lifetime on Earth was his shortest one.

Born to a poor family in 790, he was sold just after birth to a family that owned a farm that had three daughters. A boy would provide another farm hand to help till the land but, he fell ill and he and one of his sisters died in the spring of his sixth year.

He gained years in the lifetimes that followed but died at various ages from numerous causes. At the age of 20, he succumbed to the black plague. At 28 he died from small pox, and in another life at the age of only 11, he was murdered by an abusive father. The very first time he died from old age, he was 70 in 1722, nearly unheard of, though he looked over a hundred, ragged skin aged from a lifetime of working hard outdoors, hair brittle and white and every limb was accosted with atrophy and arthritis causing him to walk with a limp, stooped over with a humped back and crooked spine. It was one of his most agonizing lives and deaths in that death did not come quickly. He died alone and lonely, his wife having passed forty years before him and his children either dead or living too far away. 

His current lifetime has been his healthiest but as with all the others, he searched for something he did not know of. There was an emptiness he couldn't fill with wives, children, whiskey, food or hard work nor the money that sometimes came with it if he was lucky. Each life spent searching for an imagined or invisible ache that, when he lived long enough, urged him on to seek it out. He knew not that he had been a God. He knew nothing of the privileged life he left behind in Asgard as much as he didn't know of the brother that had been cast out alongside of him for their mutual sins of the flesh.

 

 

They were but young princes, having just come of age but their love and affection for eachother had been years in the making. Thor was just 21 when he finally bedded his 19 year old brother, Loki.

It began when they were both little, no more than 8 and 10, with loving embraces, chaste kisses followed by giggling beneath coverlets in their beds long after they should be sleeping. Shared secrets and stories, coddling Loki when he had a nightmare, holding him close and dragging small fingers through his long black locks.

When they got a little older, long horseback rides together took them far from the palace and into hidden forests and caves where they explored the lands, but mostly each other. Kisses became longer, touches became more adventurous and they oft practiced finding eachother's pleasure with hands and mouths on their still underdeveloped bodies.

"Promise me..." Loki insisted again.

"I already _have_... what more can I promise you, brother?"

"Just promise me again, then." Loki whined.

Thor sat up a little straighter and looked at those bright green eyes, taking Loki's face in his hands. His cheeks were flushed from so much kissing. He stared as determinedly as he could into Loki's eyes to emphasize his words. "Stop whining. You know how mother hates it."

"Thorrrrr!"

"I love you, brother, and I _promise_... I will _always_ love you."

"Annnd?"

"Forever and ever. Til I die and even _then_ I will still love you from Valhalla."

" _Annnd_?"

"And we will marry and live a happy life just swimming and riding and sleeping and eating... and..... _other things."_   Thor grinned, his eyes darting down to Loki's too pink lips.

"Now do the thing."

Thor sighed. "I already did it tw..."

"DO it, Thor... please?" Loki whined again, holding his left hand out with fingers splayed apart.

"Shhush... " , Thor took Loki's hand in his and kissed the back of it. He reached inside his tunic pocket and pretended to pull out a little object between his fingers, a half inch of empty space where the invisible ring was held. He pretended to slip it onto Loki's third finger, moving his fingers up the length of the narrow digit tickling him in the process,  "I promise to love and cherish you forever, Loki. My brother and my soulmate. With this ring... I wed thee... "

Loki looked down at his hand as though he could really see it, the band of gold that Thor promised to put there for real some day, and smiled happily, his eyes darting back up to Thor's blue ones as if he was checking for sincerity.

"... and will be yours forever, and ever." He made a criss cross gesture with his finger over his heart, "I _PROMISE."_

Loki grinned. "That was better than before. I liked that one best." he said in a soft, smooth as velvet voice that made Thor want to swallow him whole, kiss him until he was part of him completely.

After a long, slow but eager set of kisses, Thor sat back against the tree where they sat in the grass and gawked at him, lips pursed and eyes narrowing.

"What?" Loki asked.

"Your. Turn." Thor said adamantly, poking Loki's chest with his finger twice with each word.

Loki blushed and Thor reveled in it. His brother was so pretty but the fact that he and only he could paint his cheeks the most delightful pink rose to make him that much prettier, was an accomplishment.

"I love you as well. I always will, forever and ever. I promise to never forget you even when you're old and grey and..."

"Alright.. alright..." Thor groaned, holding his hand over Loki's mouth. "You will be old and grey someday too, little brother." he leaned over and kissed his nose, "But I will still love you."

 "Promise?"

 

 

 

Thor remembered none of this.

He remembered none of his lifetimes on Earth, each one spent as a fragile human with no powers or great strength. But, in every lifetime, he had a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, in the depths of his heart, that something was missing. Something important that he should remember but couldn't. Something he should be searching for but it's nearly impossible to search for that which one doesn't know what to look for.

In this current life, he was a strong, rugged and healthy man of 24 years. He lived in the newly colonized lands of the Americas and made his way as a woodsman, finding work where he could and able to sustain himself during the long winters. When the indigenous people of the land where he had called a home for the past three winters invaded and murdered all the inhabitants of a nearby town, he lost his means to live. There was no one left to buy, sell or trade with so he moved south, hoping as he traveled to find warmer climates and find the land subsequent to farming.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I got this amazing vision during a meditation of this story and I had to write it and get it out of my head. I thought it would be a quickie but it's turning into something more so there will be more chapters but I don't know how many.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki had not been afforded the luxury of forgetting his life on Asgard, or who he was, what he was or what had happened to bring him here to Earth. That is not to say that living for a thousand years had not changed him and warped his mind.

 

 

Upon his banishment, Loki had not been afforded the luxury of forgetting his life on Asgard, or who he was, what he was or what had happened to bring him here to Earth. Most importantly, and most painfully, he hadn't forgotten Thor.

 

The All Father had always favored his eldest son though it made him love Loki no less. It was just a matter of principle. Thor would one day be King of the Nine Realms and though Loki was bright and clever, Thor was honorable, a warrior like his father, and the people loved him. Since the day of his birth, he'd been held up on a pedestal by the people of Asgard. Loki had not so much been born but appeared one day as the King and Queen's second child. There was no fan fare, there hadn't been any announcement of his inevitable arrival, and on the day he was introduced to the realm, it was Thor's second birthday. Loki was only known to be the golden prince's little gift of a sibling. A playmate to learn and grow with. A friend to spar and train with. Loki was that indeed. He became known as "Thor's Shadow" to the hundreds of servants, nurses, nannies and anyone else that had the opportunity and good fortune to work close enough to the royal family to see them regularly. Wherever Thor was, Loki was, and vice-versa.

 

Loki never held it against Thor that he was the favored one. He recognized early on that it wasn't Thor's fault. In truth, he was pleased most of the time to not have to attend certain events or meetings that the Allfather would drag Thor off to. Loki was happy to spend his time alone reading, learning simple magic and spells to entertain his parents with or to spend quality time with his mother, Frigga. She taught him the ways of sewing, weaving, embroidery and how to grow plants that could be used in spells. She taught him the names of flowers and their usefulness and where to find them in what seasons. By the age of 10 he knew every flower that grew in Asgard as well as most of the weeds and plants. He started his own little garden outside his balcony using an old crate he found in the stables. Taking buckets full of soil one at time up to his rooms until he filled it then collecting seeds from plants he knew would be most useful in simple potions to aid in healing, nausea, and bad breath. Mint was grown and used for all these ailments, as well as lavender which came in useful for teas and to make bathwater smell nice. Thor especially liked that one and so Loki grew plenty of it, concocting it into oils to comb into his brother's hair. He adored the scent of lavender and mint and found that when mixed, they were quite delightful so that was the potion he wore in his own hair. It both complimented Thor's scent and Thor found the mixture absolutely intoxicating. In their shared bed, though it was really Thor's bed and Loki insisted upon sleeping in it more nights than in his own, complaining of bad dreams or that the maids hadn't used the right soaps on his linens and they reeked of sandalwood, Thor would bury his nose in his brother's soft raven locks and inhale him until Loki batted him away.

"You will inhale all the smell off of me! I don't have enough oils made to sate you, brother!" he scoffed.

 

 

 

 

While Thor suffered through many lifetimes and many deaths with an emptiness he could never find or fill, The All Father saw fit that Loki should suffer one long lifetime remembering what it was that he lost. Odin also saw fit to never allow Loki to learn the right kinds of magics on Earth that he may find Thor again easily, but Loki tried. Over and over and over again finally realizing that the magic he needed to find his beloved was blocked to him.

He spent the first eighty years both cursing and praying to the Allfather . He shouted at the skies until he was hoarse then lay in the grass and weep for days, begging and pleading to be brought home or to be allowed to see or talk to Thor, unknowing that Thor was born and died at least three times in those first eighty years. When he'd wept enough, he would scream unholy things to the skies again and demand to be heard, only to go unheard, his threats unheeded. He tried to take his own life a dozen times but each time failed.

After only five years into his banishment, he stood atop a cliff and threatened the Allfather that his youngest son's blood would be on his hands. He wouldn't live this life without Thor and he wouldn't live a moment longer on this wretched little planet. After throwing himself from the cliff to the rocks below, he woke the next day without a scratch.

He drowned himself in the river, using vines to tie heavy rocks to his feet, only to wake on the shore. He hung himself from a tree only to wake up underneath it shivering from the cold, he impaled himself with a spear he fashioned using a sharp rock and twine and again... woke in the morning's light without so much as a mark on him and the spearhead clean of blood. He even tried tormenting a bear into attacking him, ripping him to shreds but again, he woke the next day, even laying on the bear's cleaned hide.

Surely, he'd go mad. But as the years passed, he became more and more adept at living and providing for himself, his magic gaining strength and his mind getting sharper.

 

After only a hundred years, he caught his reflection in a still pond and saw that he'd not aged a day. He was shocked, then laughed hysterically for several minutes until he sobbed uncontrollably. He knew his hair to still be black for it was far too long and never far from his sight as it fell over his shoulders and he'd pull it back into messy knots atop his head. His hands had weathered a bit from hard work hunting, digging and building but he quickly concocted a potion using animal fat and wild mint to heal his skin, keeping his hands soft and smooth. However, he had never seen his own face since leaving Asgard. His reflection in the water proved that his face was pale and smooth, free of lines, sagging or freckles. Aside from his long hair that grew wild, curled and turned to dread locks when he didn't care for it, he looked the same as the day he left Asgard. He stared at the reflection knowing that it was the last way Thor had seen him. Again, he cried for the loss of his brother.

His eyesight remained clear, and he could hear a rabbit sending a warning thump to it's littermates from several yards away. His senses were acute as they'd always been, and more so, and for that, he again cursed his father, for it was those sharp senses that kept him alive. He never wanted for food, or shelter, or wisdom. He fished and hunted and built elaborate shelters in the forest and caves. He used magic to build fires to stay warm and cook meals. He fashioned clothing when it was cold from furs and vines, and when it was hot, he wore nothing but a leather loin cloth on his hips, though he really didn't know why he bothered. He only came across a human being once or twice every hundred years and they were often lost hunters already bewildered and victim to hallucinations or savages that spared his life when they saw his eyes. Something about him told even elders of the woods that he was far beyond them in his thaumaturgy. They could see that he was a force and to be feared. un-impenetrable.

 

 He'd retained knowledge of what his mother had taught him and harvested seeds and  farmed small fields with wheat and corn, enough to feed himself and some very eager animals that had become his only company. He'd learned their ways too; how to gauge weather, where to get fresh water and where to dig for truffles. He hibernated in the winters, using meditation to slow his heart rate and slow his metabolism so that he had to eat very little and slept long hours, using only a couple hours of daylight that he needed to keep a fire stoked and eat a little. His magic was becoming a force that even he was impressed with at times. He began to wonder just how far he could go with it. Would it enable him one day to travel great speeds and spans of time so that he may go home? Or time travel? 

Or find Thor?

 One early spring, after  the trees began to bloom and after the animals that lived in them came out of their hibernation, he cleared an entire field's worth of land by upheaving every tree, sometimes two at a time, and relocating them to different areas of the forest that had been burned by lightening. He explained his actions to the animals that resided there, squirrels, rabbits, deer and birds. He promised that in return, he'd give them the bulk of his harvest that fall. As much corn, and seed as they needed for their winter. They abided except for one murder of crows, who took particular offense to their favorite trees being taken away. They retaliated all summer long, picking and shitting on his crops. In the fall, Loki kept his promise and harvested his crops and built a silo of sorts from an old tree stump where he stored all his dried corn, leaving it for animals to come and take as they needed. The crows took their share of that too, and then afterward never bothered Loki's crops again.

 

He welcomed the long sleep of winter for it was then that he didn't miss or worry on his brother or going home, because in his dreams, he _was_ home, and Thor was so real he could feel and smell him. He could hear his low, sometimes husky voice, he could smell the warmth of the sun on his tanned skin and the lavender in his hair from the bath oils Loki made for him. He could feel him pressed against him, his hands on his body, and in turn, Loki could feel his own hands on Thor, tracing every detail of his muscles, veins and hairs on his face. He could look right into Thor's cerulean eyes and see every fleck of every shade of blue and cyan.

He could talk to him, and they would recite their promises to eachother over and over again. Often times in his dreams, Loki wore Thor's ring and they rode horses through fields of timothy and swam in cool lakes under a canopy of willows. They kissed and touched and rode eachother's bodies to breathlessness. It was one of Loki's greatest joys when he woke wet and writhing, Thor's name on his lips. Having it feel so real as though Thor was right there made the realization all the more heartbreaking but it was a reparation that Loki was willing to pay to have that time with his brother again. Nearly six hundred years had passed and his dreams of Thor never waivered. They were never dreadful or sad but instead filled with Thor's warmth, his smiles, laughter and breaths of passion.

He never once dreamt of their last night together. Though he never forgot it either.

 **

 

"I swear to you Loki, ... I will not have any other but you. I don't care what father has planned for me. We can leave... we can go live in a cave on the mountaintop. With your magic and my skills, we can provide for ourselves. We will never have to want for anything, so long as I have you."

Loki lay naked under his likewise naked brother on his bed, rolling his eyes and turning his head away. "It's madness, Thor. He'd find us. You're to be King but even with that power you cannot change the laws of nature. They will save you but they shall call for my head on a stake. They already do not trust me... my magics frighten them and they'll for certain think that I bewitched you to bring you ill fate as their king. They think me jealous of you."

Thor smiled softly and smoothed the pad of his thumb over Loki's lower lip. "You've not been jealous of me a day in your life, have you?"

Loki shook his head.

"Then why will they think so?" Thor asked in a whisper.

"I feel it. They expect it to be so ... so they've convinced themselves that it's true. A believed falsehood is still a truth if believed enough."

"Do you believe I love you?" Thor asked.

Loki nodded.

"Then believe that we will be well. In time... they will come to understand. It is not our faults that we love like this... this is not lust.. this is not a baseless desire. You love me truly, do you not?"

Loki nodded earnestly. "I do... you know that I do..."

"As I do you." Thor affirmed. "And love, truest love will always win  in the end."

Loki sighed softly. "I want to believe that."

"Then believe it. Have I ever lied to you or misled you?" Thor stated flatly, an amused smirk on his face.

"Well.. there was that one time in Idunn's orchard..."

Thor clamped his hand over Loki's mouth and they both shook from laughter til Loki wrenched Thor's hand away and pulled his face down to kiss him. When they were breathless and once again writhing against each other, their young manhoods full and dripping between their bodies, Thor pulled Loki over atop of him when he rolled to his back. "I will marry only you, brother... you are mine as I am yours and no one will come between us. You have my word."

It was hard not to believe Thor when he spoke this way. No wonder he'd be King. He might not have the silver tongue that Loki had but he knew how to use what he had, a calm, soothing way about him but with the brawn and strength behind it to back it up.

Loki straddled him, taking both of their erections in his hand and pumping them slowly together. "I love you, Thor."

So deep in their fog of lovemaking they were that it was too late to do anything by the time they heard the clatter of too many foot steps and weapons closing in on Thor's rooms. The door was burst open and as they scrambled to cover themselves, Odin stood before them, with no less than fifty guards behind him. "I suspected this but never... _never_ did I consider it so true as this!" he growled with shaking voice full of rage, disbelief and disappointment. "Take them to the dungeons!" he ordered the guards and before Thor could get words out of his mouth, Loki was ripped from his arms and dragged from his bed. He scrambled to get him back, but was yanked back by four heavy guards who fought him until they were able to subdue the golden prince. "Father... father.. no...you must understand something... _please_..."

"I understand that both my sons are cursed with diseased minds..."

 

The last time Loki saw Thor was as he was dragged naked from his bed, the last time he heard his voice he was pleading with the Allfather  but to no worth. Left in the dungeon for what seemed like weeks, though merely days, Odin finally came to him.

"Father... " he began to beg, his legs too weak from not eating, his eyes sallow from lack of sleep.

"Silence." Odin barked. "Loki, my son... I have come only to inform you of your sentence." Loki's eyes were wide and wet as he tried to focus in the dim light on that of his father on the other side of the iron cage door.  "You are to be banished to Midgard, where you will spend your days and nights and years until which time I find you worthy to return. It is only for my and your mother's love of you and your brother that you are not already dead."

"W-What of Thor?" Loki choked out. He could accept this banishment, even to Midgard, a dreadful little realm, but if Thor were to be banished with him as well, he could accept it.

"Thor will be banished as well." Odin said grimly.

Loki's breath escaped his lungs unknowingly being held hostage there til his father had answered. A relief then. At least he would be with Thor. Asgard be damned, he'd have the one and only thing that mattered to him anyway.

"You will never see Thor again." Odin added.

Loki dropped even further down, his hands sliding down the length of the iron bars he held for support.

"Noo.. please..." he cried weakly.

"You will live out your eternity there as will he. If you are able to find him, or he find you without the use of your powers, ..." Odin hesitated, "...then the Norns see fit that you are destined." he finally said, begrudgingly.

Loki closed his eyes and sobbed. When he opened them again, he was laying flat on his back on the shore of a river, the sun's rays filtering through tree limbs and leaves above. Odin's last words to him still fresh in his mind.

"Find .. Thor." he whispered to himself. That's all he had to do.

 

 **

 

 

Time passed and Loki took to traveling. Not long distances at first but eventually, making his way across frozen lands, to warm ones, through forests and mountains. Along his way, he met self proclaimed prophets, hermits, outcasts of towns and communities. They hid themselves from the common population because they held knowledge that would damn them. They'd be hung, or buried alive for what they practiced for it was misunderstood and considered the most horrific of sins. Loki knew a thing or two about horrific sins. He was drawn to these necromancers and conjurers for he was a kin to them. He learned much more from these witches and sorcerers over a great many decades and centuries. He retained every bit of knowledge and power that came to him while his teachers died off around him over the next several hundred years.

 

In his 800th year on Midgard, Loki was nearly as powerful as any God. He could communicate with animals and plants and the Earth itself through thoughts. He could move entire mountains if he chose to or create earthquakes or stop volcanos from overflowing.  He honed his skills and was now able to morph into any creature he could imagine, real or otherwise. He could take flight as a bird, he could swim as a shark, he could run as a Gazelle or crawl into the smallest spaces as a spider, though he was careful to protect himself with a shield to keep him from being eaten by any predator. At first he thought this new skill was a hallucination. He'd grown a tobacco that he smoked from a corn-cob pipe on most nights as he sat before his fire, staring into it's flames. He held thoughts of Thor in great detail and often wondered how, after so long, he could still recall his brother's visage so perfectly.

One night in doing so, he looked up from the flames, his eyes spotting a form in the smoke which became clearer by the second and soon took form as his brother, sitting on the opposite side of the fire from him. He was so vivid, so real, Loki didn't dare blink for fear of him disappearing.

Perhaps he'd finally gone mad. Perhaps he had fallen asleep and this was a dream. Thor stared back at him and then smiled weakly. Loki's mouth opened but nothing came out but a breath. Thor blinked and smiled again. "I've missed you, brother." Thor said. "Have you missed me as well?" he asked after a long pause. Loki was frozen in place. if he moved, he might wake up or this vision might leave him. His eyes burned and teared both from the smoke and from the sheer emotion of seeing Thor sitting before him.

"Say that you still love me, Loki. Say that you have not stopped searching for me." Thor said sadly, his smiled faded, his eyes now flickering with tears in the lights that danced across his face from the flames.

Loki tried to speak but nothing came out. His stomach was tight and filled with a thousand moths fluttering away. His heart raced at a speed he'd not felt in so long. It had been at least ninety years or more that he'd spoken to anyone. He'd given up on talking to himself and he communicated with the animals through thoughts and gestures only. There was no reason to speak and so he'd forgotten how... or his body had. He had to break this spell. He had to say or do something before Thor thought him to not want him here. He willed himself to move... _move,_ make some gesture!

"Loki? Do you not hear me?"

Loki let out a breath and with all his will, nodded once.

Thor smiled instantly. "Can you speak to me?"

Loki shook his head, and slowly reached his hand to his throat. Thor was still here. He had moved and Thor was still here. He blinked once to relieve the sting of his eyes, tears flowing down his pale cheeks making orange streaks in the glow of the fire.

"You've lost your silver tongue?" Thor relayed with a playful smile. "Nod your answers to me then, yes?"

Loki nodded again. Blinked again.

"Do you love me still?" Thor asked carefully.

Loki nodded as eagerly as possible, his eyes wide wanting to take as much of this beautiful dream in as possible.

"I have never stopped loving you, brother...my promise to you was true. I am yours. Look at your hand." Thor said, his eyes darting to Loki's hand.

Loki was afraid to look away. If he looked away Thor would leave him.

"Go on... look, Loki."

Loki swallowed then ever so slowly, raised his hands up before him, not taking his eyes from Thor's eyes. He held his hands up with fingers splayed apart so that he wouldn't loose track of Thor but still do as his brother told him to do. Thor chuckled warmly at this. Loki's eyes flashed over his hands quickly and there, on his left hand, on his ring finger, a shiny glint of gold. His eyes kept darting back to Thor, smiling at him.

"It's our marriage band, Loki." and Thor held his hand up to show his as well. "Did you forget our promises?"

Loki let out a small sound in a sob and shook his head, mouthing the word, "no". He lowered his hands when Thor did and they stared at one another over the flames for a long moment.

I must have died, Loki thought. I must have fallen asleep here and finally died.

"You have not died Loki." Thor said as if he heard Loki's thoughts. "And you are not asleep."

Loki pursed his lips and then more tears. What was this then? Why had Thor made no move from where he sat? Why did he not try to touch him? Why was he appearing to him now? Now, after so long?

 

"Do you remember the drums we made when we were little? We stretched worn leather over some of Mother's wooden bowls and nailed it down?" he began to laugh to himself, "she was so angry with us for piercing her bowls."

Loki remembered it well. It had been his idea after father had taken them to the city market place and they saw minstrels. Loki was fascinated by the drums, their low and vibrating rhythm, like a heart beating.

"We beat on them with our hands and pretended we were ancient warriors like grandfather, communicating through different beats of our intentions in battle." Only Loki turned their meaning into something else between he and Thor. A secret language that only they understood. They could tell each other simple messages without speaking, not even needing the drums to do so. They'd often get reprimanded for pounding their hands or fingers too loudly on the dinner table or on their walls when they should be in bed.

Loki nodded. Then used his hands to slap his knees in a message to Thor.

Thor laughed til tears formed in his eyes again. "I love you too, brother." he said in return, as he also repeated the message on his lap with his hands.

 

"I want you to make a drum." he said after he'd dried his eyes. "I want you to play it so that you might find me."

Loki furrowed his brows and looked at Thor curiously as to say, 'why'? Thor was right here. why would he need to find him?

"Do this, brother. Find me... do not let me go when you do. And find your voice again. Your lovely voice, brother. I must hear it again."

Loki stared at Thor for so long afterward, trying to decipher what he meant, that he grew sleepy. He blinked once, then twice and when he opened his eyes again, there were only flames before him. Thor was gone. Loki cried himself to sleep not long after, feeling the loss of Thor again fresh, a wound reopened.

 

He woke up to soft morning light, birds busy chatting to one another as the sun began to rise. His fire was smoldering and he sat up and let out a silent scream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. This was supposed to be a short ficlet but as you see... it's turning into more. So much more. I hope you like it enough to stay with it.   
> This story was inspired by an Om meditation I did with tribal drums. I will try to find a link to it and post it here for your enjoyment. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Build a drum.. and he will come. 
> 
> :)

 

 

Loki eventually chalked up his vision and conversation with Thor that night as a hallucination brought on by the plant he smoked and his powers of meditation bringing his largest desires to fruition in the only way they could be. Still, he never yet had a vision that he wasn't able to bring something forth from. They were often messages from his own mind, buried so deep that they only appeared to him in dreams or meditation visions. Sometimes they were simple things, like where he might find a seedling for a new crop to grow, or that there was danger near him in the form of a wild boar or pack of wolves. Other times, he had visions that alerted him to a storm or drought to come, so that he may prepare for it.

He sat before the fire, smoking, every night for ninety three nights in hopes that Thor would return. He consulted with the stars as to what alignment they were under when Thor appeared to him and when the next full moons would be so that he might see him again.

Finally, he made the drum that Thor's apparition, for that's what he had to have been, told him to make. He knew not why he was to make it or how it would serve it's said purpose but his faith in his universe and his love for Thor made him do so.

On the ninety fourth night, he sat before his fire and softly patted the drum's surface with his fingertips, tapping out the same message over and over again that Thor would recognize. _Appear to me, beloved,_  was a series of 12 beats in a certain rhythm. His fingertips hit the leather of the drum gingerly at first, but with each passing night, the beats became louder.

The drumming seemed to call many things to him. Birds flocked to him, owls made their homes in the trees near him camp, flocks of bats circled far over his head at night, and he noticed many more squirrels, chipmunks and rabbits near his camp as well. It seemed the rhythm of the beats attracted many, ... all but Thor.

On a night that he took to fishing further down the river than he normally did, he heard the distressed cries of a wolf pup. Upon finding her close by, he found it extremely unusual that a pup so young, no more than six weeks, was separated from it's mother or pack. Old enough to eat small bits of meat, she still wasn't completely weaned.  She had either been abandoned or perhaps a predator had been frightened off and left her there after taking her from her mother.

Loki searched well into the night for her den or pack, calling out to her mother in the wolves' language but found no one. Highly unusual. Loki took her back to camp to care for her, morphing into a female adult wolf to help wean her. Her little teeth were sharp as needles and Loki winced and complained while the pup took her fill of milk for the night.

"Ow! Perhaps this is why your mother took her leave of you, you scoundrel! That hurts!" he chided the pup.

Loki became very attached to her, as she did him, following him everywhere. Loki named her Fenn and thought of her like a daughter. He realized, in all his years on Earth, he'd never taken a pet, even with all the animals that lived about him and trusted his presence no matter where he made camp. There was something different about Fenn. She was unusual, in that she didn't seem to come from anywhere, just appeared one day. Much like Loki had just appeared in Thor's life as a baby and just like he suddenly appeared on Midgard and started living life here as an immortal.

Fenn sat at Loki's feet each night by the fire while he played his drum, one night asking him why he only played the one rhythm. He told her over many nights of his past, and of the vision he'd had of Thor and why he made and played the drum, even though over nearly a year's time, nothing seemed to have come of him sending out the reverberating messages into the air. She whimpered when he wept over his loss of his brother, laying her head on his lap to comfort him. Loki described Thor so vividly to her that she was certain that if she saw him, she'd know him instantly.

 When she could tell he began to tire each night, she'd nuzzle her nose into his flank and tell him to sleep. She would rest too,  protectively at his feet, near the door to his shelter. She thought on what her father had told her about his brother and decided that maybe what he needed, was a louder drum. She told him so the next morning.

 

 

Loki made a bigger drum, one that he couldn't hold comfortably between his knees like the first one. The new one was not only wider, but taller and the leather a bit thicker so that he might hit it's surface harder without breaking it. The drum offered a deep sound that reverberated through the trees. On clear nights, the sound traveled for miles over the river's surface. All of the forest seemed to still and quiet itself in the wake of the echo of the drum's beat. Over and over again, the same sequence. Twelve beats in a pattern. _Appear to me, beloved_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After traveling for nearly a year, Thor found himself an abandoned farm. He did his best at rebuilding the small shack on the land to shelter himself for the winter but finding the means to do so was difficult and he found the land to be too sour to grow anything substantial. He made it through the winter but at the first sign of spring, he moved on, hoping to find a new village or town to find work or shelter. He traveled as light as possible, taking what he needed from the farm that he thought may be of good use to him. He had found an old hammer that was small enough to carry. It was heavier than anything he had on his person but he thought it to be a very handy tool should he ever need to build something again.

 He walked by day, hunted and then stopped each evening to build camp and fire to cook his meal. He slept alone under the stars looking up at them and praying to them to help him find what he searched for. Thor wasn't sure what that was but it was more than just work or shelter.

One warm night in late spring, he had built a camp near a river. He fished and had a hearty meal of trout that night and swam in the full moon's light. It was peaceful as he waded in the water at chest level, listening the the crickets, frogs, owls ...and drum beats.

Drum beats? He stilled in the water and tried to listen closer. He couldn't only hear them but he could feel them, a beat so low that he felt it in his ears and his chest.  When the breeze was right, he could hear them much clearer but, yes, there was definitely a drum beat far off in the distance. It seemed they were far enough away that he wasn't in any danger of being scalped in his sleep but by morning, he might want to travel in the opposite direction. When he got out of the water, he dressed and climbed a small rock formation that he'd seen earlier when it was light out but the moon was so bright this night, he had no trouble seeing where to step. If he could determine where the sounds were coming from, he could travel away from them in the morning.

Standing atop the small cliff, he could see over to the opposite side of the river. He thought he could see the smallest fleck of orange light. A campfire. Perhaps it was just an old recluse taken to living in the woods. It wasn't unheard of. He climbed down off the rocks and sat on the shore digging his toes into the fine mud there, finding it soothing on his tired feet.

The drum's rhythm was calming, too. Eventually, he laid back to rest. Looking up at the night skies, he spotted three shooting stars. His mother had told him to wish on them when he was little and even now, as a grown man, he found himself doing so.

The first shooting star he saw seemed to follow a path directly above him. "Star light, star bright... first star I see tonight... I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight...." Thor murmured aloud. "... Heavenly Father, I wish ... I wish....." Thor hesitated. His mother had always told him to make his wishes for things that would not only serve him, but serve all, that he shouldn't be only thinking of himself. He did so for her, and always wished for health and wealth for his family, for good crops and strong healthy cattle and goats.

Once, he wished for his very own horse so that he may ride far away and see far off lands. He felt so guilty for the wish that he admitted it to his parents at breakfast the next day and told them that he'd do his brother's chores as well as his own that day and every day for a week. During that week, his brother, not having any chores to do, went to the pond to swim, and drown. Thor knew his brother's death was because he asked for something selfish. His parents tried to tell him otherwise but he never forgave himself for that. He didn't make wishes on stars or anything else for a very long time, until his father fell ill and he wished for his health to return, which it did and his faith in making good wishes that served others was restored.

Since he couldn't come up with anything on the first star, too much time had lapsed while he thought so he decided he'd have to wait til he saw another. He thought long and hard to think of another wish but still hadn't come up with anything by the time he saw the second falling star.

It seemed as though the drum beats got louder. He was in a daze listening to their rhythmic pattern, hypnotized,  and had forgotten to think of a wish until he saw the third star fall straight over where he'd seen the drum's campfire. He quickly said his poem as he had before, then spoke his wish quickly and confidently, "I wish to know if whosoever beats that drum could be friend or foe."

He went back to his campfire soon after to warm himself, startled momentarily by an owl that took flight from a very near by branch when he walked by.

Once he laid his head down for the night, he slept soundly. He dreamt of building a raft to cross the river, but when he put the small craft into the water, he noticed that there was a beautiful bridge stretching from his side of the river to the other. He walked across it's rainbow surface to the other side and found an equally beautiful palace on the other side. When he got to it's door, a large black raven alighted on the steps before him and spoke to him in the most lovely sound he'd ever heard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loki stopped his drumming abruptly one night when an owl interrupted his routine by alighting in the tree over his head and singing it's nightly sounds to him. The owl told him of a mortal man that now slept on the other side of the waters. He had no means to come across the river so Loki wasn't bothered by this news. Every so often, a man would come this far into the woods, either lost or running from something or someone. Loki was never bothered by it. He could very well make himself invisible if he wanted to.

"If he is no threat to our home, we shall let him pass on his way." Loki told the owl. "Not to fret, my friend.

That night, with Fenn at his feet,  Loki dreamt, of a land made of ice and snow. He recognized it as Jotunheim only after he saw his father, a younger man than he was when he banished Loki and Thor, as a warrior bringing the land to ruin with his Asgardian army. The war with Jotunheim was well known to Loki as he and Thor grew up, they learned of the wars and which realms were the worst threats to them.  

In the dream, his father, was walking through the ruins of the worn, torn city of Jotunheim. One side of his face, stained with blood from the loss of his eye. Odin stepped inside a damaged temple, having heard something odd inside it's crumbling walls. There, on a slab of ice, Odin lifted a small bundle into his hands, a baby. A runtling Jotun infant.

When Loki woke the next morning to bird's songs, he didn't know what the dream could have meant. When he dreamt, it was almost always fortelling something. When it wasn't, it was a dream of desire. A dream of Thor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thor recalled his dream vividly as he never had a before the next morning. He walked back down to the river's bank and looked over to where the tiny flicker of orange glow had come from the night before. He knew, logically, he should move on in the opposite direction but something was drawing him to the other side. His curiosity was peaked and he just couldn't shake the feeling that was left with him from that dream. He began looking around to find something that would make at least a small raft to paddle his way across. This part of the river was quite calm though there was a current flowing towards the middle. He knew he'd have to have something strong enough to keep him on course to get across the river before the current would take him too far down to where the waters would become rough.

By the end of that day, he'd collected enough logs at various lengths and girths to make a decent craft. After eating some more trout for dinner, he sat by his fire as evening approached and braided vines that he collected during the day to tie the logs together in the morning. As darkness fell, he heard the drum beats begin again. He made his way back down to the river's edge, climbed the rocks and looked to find the same small flicker of orange in the same place as the night before. The drum's beat stirred him. He could feel it in his heart and though he couldn't make sense of it, it felt as though it _was_ his heart's beat. The feeling spurred him on, making him more determined to get across the river.

He stayed on the shore listening intently to the beats as they lulled him into a meditative state. He hadn't realized how long he'd been sitting there til the beats stopped for the night, and he snapped out of his stupor, shivering from the cold. He returned to his camp fire, adding more sticks and logs to enlarge it to warm up. That night he dreamt of a wolf that talked to him with it's eyes, a raven that was so beautiful he couldn't take his eyes off of it but it didn't speak to him like it had the night before, and again, a bridge made of many colors, like the rainbows he'd seen after a storm but solid, and strong.

In the morning, he remembered the dream but couldn't recall what the wolf had said to him. He was familiar with ravens but didn't understand why he thought it to be so lovely in his dream. He'd seen much lovelier birds than ravens in his days. In the dream, he felt as though he knew the rainbow bridge very well but now, in the light of day, and far away from dreams and visions, it made no sense to him.

He ate some more fish for breakfast and got started on tying his raft together with his braided vines. When he had three of the logs tied together, he dragged it down to the river to be sure it floated. Tying a long length of vine to it, he put it in the water and tested it's buoyancy. Satisfied that it would suffice, he dragged it back ashore and worked on getting the rest of the logs tied together. He finished it just before the sun began to fall. Since the river stilled even more so at night, he decided to try to cross before the sun set, and before the full moon began to wane as he could use it's light to guide him once he was on the other side.

Using a strong branch, and taking two extras with him in case they broke or he dropped them in the water, he used them to help guide his small raft across the water. Luckily, the few months of little rain made the river much shallower than it had been all year long and he was able to poke and pull and push his way across without incident. It took him a little more than an hour to get across and by the time he hit the shore, the sun was setting and the woods growing dark. He waited there til the moon was in full glow to start making his way down the shoreline to where he might have seen the campfire's glow the nights before. No sooner had he started out, but he began to hear the faint sounds of the drum, now much softer without the aid of the water to carry it's sound to his ears but he followed it, making the beats grow in volume as he got closer.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

With Loki's sense of hearing and strong intuition, and Fenn's acute sense of smell, they were alerted to Thor's closeness to the camp long before he got close enough to see them. Putting his drum aside, he morphed into a raven and alighted atop a tall branch to have a better view of what was coming towards them. Fenn took her place inside the doorway to their shelter and waited, crouching down, head between her front legs and ears perked to catch every sound.

 

 

 

When the drums suddenly stopped, Thor's heart beat began to race. In the previous nights, the drum beat well into the late night. It was still rather early and he fretted that he was wrong in coming here. He might have been spotted already. He froze in place and didn't move a muscle for several minutes, just listening to the sounds of the forest but mainly, his own heart beat thrumming in his ears. The forest grew so quiet, he was certain that his heart could be heard by anyone near by and would give him away.

Finally, he made the decision to move again, for he either had to move forward, backward or stay and be killed where he stood, if in fact, whatever or whoever was on the other side of this river had the mind to kill him. Making up his mind, he decided to proceed. It was too late and he'd come too far for anything else.

The next step he took crackled and snapped dried leaves and twigs under his feet. His steps seemed so much louder than before. He stepped carefully and slowly, making his way through the woods until through the branches he began to make out slivers of light. As he got closer, and moved painfully slow, the light he saw was coming from a campfire. His eyes darted around his surroundings looking for some movement but saw none. His fear heightened, thinking that at any moment, he could have a knife or arrow in his back. His legs began to shake but he pressed on. As he came into the clearing, he raised his hands out to his sides to show he carried no weapon.

"I mean no harm." he said with surprisingly steady voice. He stilled for a moment, his eyes darting to the drum that sat near the fire, abandoned by it's owner.

 

Fenn sniffed the air as Thor approached. When he stepped into the clearing, she stood alert at the entryway to her father's shelter. Loki watched from above as the mortal came into the clearing of his camp. His tiny bird heart racing in his chest when he beheld the mans' face.

 

  
"Thor." he said aloud, but it came out as only a raven's caw. It was true. Thor had come to him, found him because of his perseverance in signaling to him through the drum beats.  

Hearing her father's recognition, Fenn stepped out of the shelter, showing herself to the man.

Thor stilled in fear when he saw the large wolf appear, averting his direct eye contact with her but watching her movements peripherally. It wasn't as if he could out run a wolf anyway so he stayed still, hoping the animal wouldn't attack. Fenn padded closer to him, sniffing him, letting out a soft whimper. When she was close enough that Thor could feel he breath on the back of his hand, she licked his knuckles. Thor finally released the breath that he'd been holding in relief. "I come as a friend." he said softly, experimentally to her. She licked his hand again then looked over her shoulder towards the shelter where she'd come from. Loki, during this time had morphed back to himself inside the doorway and stepped out cautiously.

Thor lifted his eyes to see the figure several feet away from him. He schooled his features to show no surprise or shock or fear. Keeping his hands to his sides, he stared directly into the face of the other man. "I mean no harm.... I.... I come only to seek another's company." he said slowly. He waited while the other man said nothing.

 

Loki  telepathically told Fenn all was well. This was his brother. This was Thor, come back to him at long last. His heart raced but when Thor spoke, it seemed that Loki was unrecognized by him. He took two careful steps closer into the light of the fire where he could be seen out of shadows.

 

Thor watched him carefully, not making any sudden moves. "I've... been traveling alone for some time... my village was ... destroyed." he decided to say instead of 'completely pillaged by savages'. Clearly this individual might take offense to that. He was obviously of some tribe, though most likely not the one that destroyed Thor's village. He was too far south for him to be of the same people.

 

Loki's heart sank when he realized that Thor didn't recognize him. Sure, his hair was completely wild and a bit of a mess. He'd started wearing it in two long braids tied at the back. It was easier to keep it that way. His skin had become a bit tanner just from being outdoors and since it was warm weather, he chose to only wear a simple loin cloth. This night, he wore a shrug of long black feathers around his shoulders that he'd collected from dead falcons he'd found throughout the years. Still, his face hadn't changed. He knew that much.

But surely, his own brother, his lover of several years and soul mate would recognize him through this simple disguise. Thor looked completely the same as when he'd last seen him, though a little aged around the eyes. In fact... now that he looked closer, Thor was indeed a mortal. He could see the many lifetimes in him, his soul had been through too much heartache and death for a man of his age now. He must have lived a hundred lifetimes in the time Loki had spent on Earth.

He cursed his father under his breath again. So this was the punishment he gave Thor. To live and die and suffer each fragile mortal life after another, not even knowing who he is, not knowing who Loki was or even allowing him to mourn his loss.

 

"Do you speak? Can you understand me?" Thor asked slowly.

 

Loki had to be sure. He had to know whether or not Thor's memory would be awakened if he could only see Loki as he had the last time. He nodded once to tell Thor he completely understood him and then a green and sparkling haze drifted up Loki's body from his feet to his head, changing him as it moved to look like the royal prince he once was, donning his Asgardian clothing, his skin as pale as it had been the day he left, his hair smoothed back as Thor would have remembered it. Fenn whimpered, having never seen her father look like this, it startled her but Loki put a hand out atop her furry head to assure her that all was well.

 

Still, Thor only gawked at the vision before him as the being changed before him, his eyes now wide and full of fear, he dropped to his knees. He'd been raised a god-fearing man, to be fearful of magic and witches and that which was demonic. He averted his eyes and bowed his head. "I implore you...spare me... I have no right here. Forgive my intrusion." he begged the witch.

 

Loki's posture slumped a bit. He couldn't hide his immense disappointment. His beloved had been returned to him but of what use if Thor didn't know him, feared him even. The All Father lied. They had found one another yet Loki was to watch this mortal version of his brother age and die before him? Or was he to send him away and let him live out his life away from Loki's eyes? Both would be heart breaking. What then? Would Thor be born again cursed to live out how many more lifetimes? Was Loki to still seek him out knowing this would be repeated? This heart wrenching curse would be repeated for a thousand more years?

 

"Stand." Loki said. "Do not fear me, Thor." he pleaded.

 

Thor looked up at the sound of the voice. The voice from his dream, so smooth and music to his ears.

And then his name. He rose to his feet and stared, now seeing the bright green of the man's eyes. "H-How... do you know my name?" he uttered in a broken voice.

 

Loki sighed. He took a another two steps towards him until he was just a foot apart from Thor. Looking into his sky blue eyes tore something inside of Loki. The way THor looked at him as a complete stranger, with still a definite hint of fear in his visage. Tears streamed down Loki's cheeks and at this, the mortal softened his stare. "I know you.... and you know me." he said with shaking breath. "I have been waiting for this day for a thousand years." He knew there was no way Thor could understand him, no way for the mortal to comprehend what he was telling him. "It is..... with great pain that I see you now,... looking at me as a stranger when ....." Loki shut his eyes for a moment and released another stream of tears down his cheeks, "... when you are everything to me. As I once was to you."

 

Thor furrowed his brow in confusion. Shaking his head slightly and began to say something, an apology perhaps, he knew not, when the other suddenly took his face into his cool, pale hands and closed the space between them, kissing him hard, with determination and need. Thor allowed it to happen, at first just out of fear that if he tried to stop it, he'd be ripped in two by the powerful witch, but then... then something changed. Something so odd stirred within him, starting in the pit of his stomach and up through his chest. Without understanding why at first, he was not just allowing this, he was returning it. He didn't know when his hands lifted to rest on the other's waist, then wrapping around the small of his back and pulling him closer. He returned the kiss with greed and want... a likes of which he never knew. His entire body began to tingle and he thought himself to be being bewitched, though he didn't want to resist it. Whatever this spell was, he wanted it. It felt warm and safe and comfortable... like a wonderful dream.

 

 

When they pulled apart from the kiss, Thor opened his eyes slowly and looked at Loki, instantly recognizing the green eyes, the sharp lines, quirked brow, the all too pink lips. He gasped a sobbing breath and yanked Loki against him, embracing him hard, cupping the back of his head with one hand, the other holding him tightly at the curve of his lower back.

"Loki.... Loki..." he sobbed, "brother." He pulled away to look at him again, both of them with wet faces, eyes still full of tears and joy and despair all at once. He embraced him again and inhaled his scent, burrowing his nose deep into his hair. Loki did the same.

"Loki... Loki..." was all he could seem to say, trying to take in that this was real. "Are you real? Are you real?" he gushed.

"I think so... are _you_ real?" Loki sobbed.

Thor brought his hand around and wiped Loki's face with his thumb, sucking the wet tears off his finger to taste them. If this was a dream, he'd have woken by now, in a cold sweat as he always did. A thousand years he'd slept, watching himself be born and die over and over, all while his soul searched endlessly for his brother. Every time he thought he'd succeeded, he'd wake and be born again... another life time, either short or long, living out his days not knowing how to stop the endless torment.

"I've... I've been searching for you.... in my dreams.. I dreamt I last saw you here..." he said looking around the camp, "I was sitting here with you ..." he pointed out, "right there... by the fire... speaking to you,.. though you could not speak, you had forgotten how to." he remembered. His eyes darted back to the drum. "I told you to make a drum... like we did when we were small..."

Loki nodded eagerly and laughed  , "Yes.... yes... you did ... you remember that? It was you? I thought I'd imagined it."

Thor laughed too, wiping tears away. "I have... _missed_ you... my love."

Loki couldn't stop laughing or crying. He nodded. "I have never stopped thinking of you, Thor. I have never once forgotten our promises."

Thor picked Loki up around his waist and spun him. Landing him back on his feet he kissed him til they were both breathless again. "Can we go home now? I want to go home and marry you, brother. If you will still have me?"

Loki barked out a laugh and carded his fingers through Thor's hair. "If _you_ will still have this old man... I would be yours forever, brother."

It was Thor's turn to laugh again. "Old man?" he ran his hands over Loki's hair and face, finding it the same as he'd been. "Is this illusion then? Are you ragged and grey? I dont' care... I will have you any way... any _where_ , my beloved."

Thor's face had changed in the last several minutes, from that which was a mortal, sun aged face to that of his former self. A young prince. His hair shone like golden reams of thread, his teeth white and straight, his skin had it's healthy sheen back again.

"Anywhere?" Loki asked, quirking a brow. He waved his hand and revealed what was underneath the illusion of his camp. The shelter was his rooms in the palace, exactly as they'd been when they left, the fire became his balcony, looking out over the city of Asgard and the river just beyond became the bifrost's rainbow bridge.

"Will right here do?" he asked softly, touching Thor's face with his fingers, still unbelieving it was him.

Thor looked around at the familiar place, stood back a step and took in all of what used to be home. He looked down at his attire and saw his usual regal colors and armor. "As long as this fine animal gets to stay with us as well... " he said looking down at the large wolf that stood at their legs, ".. then I'd say this will do perfectly, brother."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
